Behind the Scenes of Episode 1x11
by bearbone
Summary: The moments we didn't see when Lucy was held captive by Flynn in episode 1x11. Will have multiple parts.
1. Part 1

**Part 1** \- Set between Lucy's abduction at the end of 1x10 and the beginning of 1x11 when Flynn returns from his second unsuccessful trip to 1780

* * *

 _"No! Stop! Let go of me!" Lucy was in a full panic as the Mothership came into sight. She pulled desperately at Flynn's bruising grip on her arm; dragging her feet and fighting with all her might, but her resistance had no almost effect on Flynn._

In his rage-fueled determination Flynn did not even seem to notice Lucy's struggles. He practically flung her into the Mothership and when she reflexively stepped back toward the exit he deftly blocked her with his own body. With no way out, she had just enough time to catch the surprised eyes of a handful of Flynn's goons and a semi-concerned Anthony Bruhl before Flynn shoved her violently into a seat, reaching for the seatbelt. Lucy squirmed and shoved at him but he swatted her hands aside without a thought and roughly buckled her in. Flynn took the seat to Lucy's left, buckling himself as the Mothership's door closed, its engine revving up. Lucy was frantic now, desperate not to let the Mothership take off with her in it. She began fumbling with the seatbelt, racing to free herself, but Flynn's hand shot out and snatched her wrist in a tight grip, slamming it down on the armrest and holding it there. Lucy's wide, frightened eyes finally met his. She froze at the burning rage she saw in their depths.

"Not a good idea." The softness of Flynn's voice was a sharp contrast to the warning edge in his words. He turned and nodded swiftly at Anthony without moving his hand from Lucy's, then fixed his gaze back on her as the Mothership began its takeoff. Lucy met his furious eyes with paralyzed shock. It was finally sinking in that this was happening. Flynn had kidnapped her, dragging her from Wyatt and Rufus and 1780 and was taking her to some unknown time and place. She was angry, frightened, and anxious, and a part of her, the very small part that had begun to trust Flynn, felt horribly betrayed. The familiar shaking and jolting of time travel got to be too much and she had to squeeze her eyes closed to fight the panic creeping up on her. Flynn still had not released his bruising grip on her wrist, and despite the obvious threat in the action, Lucy found herself grounded by the feel of his hand on hers. Although her eyes were clenched closed she could feel his gaze burning into her as the Mothership torpedoed through time.

The Mothership came to an abrupt halt as it landed, and Lucy forced her eyes open despite the turning in her stomach. The door opened and she could barely discern what looked like a stained glass window. They had landed in a church, evidently. Her attention was snatched away as Flynn finally released her wrist and practically tore his seatbelt off, jumping up out of his seat. Lucy quickly followed suit as Flynn began barking orders at his men. As soon as she stood, Flynn pivoted back to her and pinned her in place with a steely glare. He grabbed her arm for the third time that night, hauling her out of the Mothership. This time, Lucy did not struggle. At this point she was surrounded by Flynn's men and simply had nowhere to run.

Flynn propelled her into a small folding chair in front of a computer and gestured furiously at it. His voice was a low growl. "Search." Lucy's bewildered eyes flitted to the computer, then back to Flynn. She stared at him, uncomprehending. "Lorena and Iris Flynn. Search. Now." Flynn practically spat the words out.

Lucy's eyes widened in comprehension. She slowly turned back to the computer, her heart racing, dreading what she would find. Flynn's hulking form shadowed over her as he paced just a few feet to her left. Lucy's hands shook slightly as she typed. She pulled up a news article and began to read, her stomach sinking as it confirmed what she had already suspected. After a minute, Flynn grew impatient. He paused in his pacing and moved just over her shoulder.

"Well? What does it say?" His tone was sharp as he hovered over Lucy, his hand resting on the back of her chair and his dark glare burning a hole in the top of her head. Lucy's whole body tensed nervously and she avoided looking up at Flynn, afraid of what she would find. She cleared her throat and began speaking, her voice barely a whisper, filled with resignation and a hint of sympathy.

"Lorena and Iris Flynn were murdered in their home on October 24th, 2014. The killer is believed to be former NSA asset Garcia Flynn, husband and father of the victims, who has since disappeared." Lucy paused; lips pursed, and snuck a glance up at Flynn. She immediately regretted it. His face had morphed into a mask of fury, glaring down at her unrelenting.

"So nothing's changed." Flynn's fists were clenched so hard they began to shake and Lucy stilled, peering cautiously up at him through her dark lashes. When she spoke, her voice was laced with sympathy.

"I'm sorry." She meant it, too. As much as she stood by her decision to spare John Rittenhouse, Lucy knew how desperately Flynn wanted his family back. If she had been that close to saving Amy, only to be thwarted by someone she considered an ally, she would be devastated too. Lucy's pity seemed to be the last straw for Flynn.

"You're _sorry?_ " he growled the words out through clenched teeth. "This is your fault! If it weren't for you, the boy would be dead and my wife and daughter would be here right now!" As he spoke, his words grew progressively louder until he was almost shouting. He was right next to her now and at his furious accusations Lucy's own temper rose and she shot up out of her chair.

"He was innocent! He was only a child!" She stood tall, glaring furiously up at him, their faces only separated by their significant height difference. Flynn's eyes were alight with a new fire as he met her unflinching stare. He leaned his head down until there was barely an inch between them, and met her glare head-on.

"That child is the reason my family is dead. You did that." Lucy shook her head in denial and opened her mouth to argue, but Flynn cut her off. "Enough. This is pointless." He turned away from her and began pacing once more. Lucy watched him warily. "We'll just go back. Farther. Kill the boy before we even got there last time. We know where Rittenhouse lives now. We don't need Benedict Arnold to show us the way." Flynn's words gained confidence as he spoke, his shoulders straightening as he put together a plan. Lucy's heart sunk.

"Flynn." The pleading tone was back as she stepped toward him. "Don't do this. You heard David Rittenhouse. He had other followers. Killing John won't stop Rittenhouse." Flynn pivoted back toward her.

"No." He shook his head in disgust. "You let him get away last time and nothing changed, so now I'm going to go back and fix the mess you created. And you," he thrust a finger in her direction, "you will stay right here and research everything you can possibly find on John Rittenhouse. When I get back, I need to be completely certain that he is gone." Lucy stared hopelessly at Flynn. She did not bother to argue, he was clearly set in his decision. Flynn turned and shouted something in a language she could not understand, and one of his goons came over and stood on the opposite side of her, a holstered gun clearly visible at his hip.

Flynn turned back to Lucy and looked her up and down, eyeing her 1780s outfit. "You should get comfortable. You've got a long night ahead of you." He tilted his head with a hint of a smirk, almost daring her to respond. Lucy looked between Flynn to her left and armed lackey to her right. She knew a losing battle when she saw one. She stepped back to the rickety chair with her lips pursed and her head held high. She held Flynn's stony gaze as she removed her cloak and loosened her bodice until she was able to slip it off. She finally sat, tilting her head at Flynn as if to say, 'Are you happy?' Flynn gave her a cold, satisfied smile and turned back to his companions. Lucy watched him for another minute as he prepared for his mission, before turning back to the computer. Flynn was right about one thing; she was going to have a long night ahead of her.


	2. Part 2

**Part 2-** Set between Lucy and Flynn's first scene in 1x11 when Flynn returns from his unsuccessful trip to 1780 and their arrival in 1893 Chicago. Parts in _italic_ are borrowed from the show.

* * *

 _Flynn's guy grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up her up as Lucy struggled fruitlessly. "No," her tone was desperate now, "wait. Wait! Where are you-" Flynn turned back to her and her voice evened out. "Where are you taking me?"_

 _Flynn took three slow steps toward her until they were just inches apart. When he spoke, his tone was almost deadly, his words punctuated with sharp gestures. "I wanted to do this the easy way, but you left me no choice," he tilted his head down and held her gaze, "So now I'm going to take down Rittenhouse one member at a time," His eyes were filled with the same steely determination she'd witnessed all night, but there was a shadow of desperation as he finished, "for as long as it takes." He searched her eyes a moment longer, daring her to challenge him. When she didn't, he turned and strode purposefully toward the back of the church; Lucy and her guard just a few steps behind._

* * *

Flynn and his lackey forcefully led Lucy past the stained glass windows and through the back hallways of the abandoned church. Lucy tried to catch a glimpse of anything that might indicate where they were, but they were moving too quickly for her to focus on one thing, and regardless, the church seemed to have been stripped of any identifiers. They ascended a spiral staircase and came to a halt just inside the entrance of what was once an office, though it had clearly been out of use for quite some time. Lucy gave it a quick once-over before turning her attention back to Flynn. He seemed calmer now, with a new sense of purpose. She met his unnerving eyes he nodded toward a door on the opposite side of the room. Lucy's gaze shifted to it warily, glancing between her captor and the door in an unspoken question.

"There's a bathroom through there. Take a shower. Freshen up." Flynn's eyes roved up and down Lucy and she shifted uncomfortably. She glanced down at herself and grimaced at her dirty, travel-worn dress. She could definitely use a shower, but there was no way that was happening right now while Flynn was out here planning God knows what. "I'll be back with more suitable clothing for you." Finished, Flynn moved to exit the room.

Lucy's guard began roughly pushing her toward the bathroom door and she stiffened in protest, shoving back at him furiously. At the sound of her struggle Flynn turned back, his eyes clouding with rekindled anger at her mutinous expression. Lucy froze at the sight, her pulse quickening as he moved forward until they were just inches apart, both their necks craned to maintain eye contact despite their considerable height difference. Lucy forced herself not to look away and glared directly into his darkening eyes. Flynn's jaw clenched slightly in frustration and when he spoke it was with a sharp finality. "You have already caused enough problems for me tonight. You will go into that bathroom right now and clean up. He," Flynn's head jerked in the direction of his lackey, his cutting gaze never leaving Lucy, "will be right here in this office while you do. So **don't** ," his eyes glinted dangerously and he leaned in even closer, **"** try anything." Lucy held his gaze in defiance for just another moment before giving in. She jerked her head in what could only be loosely interpreted as a nod and took half a step back in the direction of the bathroom. Satisfied, Flynn's lips twitched into a small smile. He opened the bathroom door and waved her through in a mock-gentlemanly manner. Lucy's eyes narrowed in one last glare and she held her head high as she stepped into the bathroom. The door snapped closed firmly behind her and she heard the lock click into place.

Away from Flynn's astute gaze, Lucy closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath. It was the first time she'd been alone in the hours since her kidnapping, and she desperately needed a moment to pull herself together and process everything that had happened. From nearly being raped by David Rittenhouse to standing between John and the wrong end of Flynn's gun, to being kidnapped and bullied and threatened by Flynn, it had been an overwhelmingly eventful night. And from the way Flynn was behaving, it had only just begun. She opened her eyes and stared into the bathroom mirror. Frightened and exhausted, not to mention dirty from almost two days of traveling in 1780, Lucy barely recognized the defeated woman looking back at her. She splashed some cold water on her face, snapping herself out of it. Despite Flynn's warning, she began to search around the bathroom, looking for another way out. Flynn's goon was guarding her from the other side of the bathroom door, but if she could find a window she just might be able to climb out that way… Her efforts quickly proved to be futile. The only window in the bathroom was at the top of the shower and barely six inches wide. Even if by some miracle she managed to squeeze through, it was a straight two-story drop to the pavement below. If she wanted her all bones to remain in tact the window was not an option.

With escape out of the equation, Lucy combed through all the drawers and cabinets, looking for anything she could use to fight against her captors. She was dismayed to find them all but empty. It seemed that Flynn had thought ahead, and only left her with soap, shampoo, and a towel, the bare minimum of supplies she would need to wash up. He'd left nothing that she could use against him or his men.

Lucy felt a sob come up as she realized just how trapped she was. She was locked in the bathroom of some abandoned church in an unknown location while Flynn plotted to go back in time once again and destroy history, this time dragging her along for the ride. She had been in some sticky situations throughout her time traveling career, but never without Wyatt or Rufus right there with her. They were a team. They needed each other to make it through things like this. But for now Lucy was on her own. She took another deep breath to calm her nerves and looked back in the mirror, wiping her eyes and regaining some composure. If she could not escape now, she would just have to find a way later. Once they went back in time, her historical knowledge would give her an advantage over Flynn. In whichever time period they ended up, she would have the intellectual upper hand. She would just have to bide her time until she could use that.

In the meantime, showering wasn't a half-bad idea. Although she was watchful of letting her guard down in such a precarious situation, she was filthy from the days' activities and she knew that if Flynn came back and she had neglected to follow his instructions it would only make him angrier and even more difficult to deal with. Plus, she could really, _really_ use a shower. With one last wary look at the door, Lucy quickly stripped and stepped into the shower, letting out a long sigh as the hot water coursed over her.

Lucy had just finished drying off when she heard muffled voices through the bathroom door. A minute later there was a sharp knock. She quickly secured the towel around herself as Flynn began to speak through the door.

"Lucy," his voice was impatient, "I have your clothes." There was a long pause and Lucy tensed, tightening the towel wrapped around her. Then Flynn's tone shifted slightly, "…are you decent?" There was an uncertain lilt to his voice.

A strangled laugh escaped Lucy as she crossed her arms protectively in front of herself. At least Flynn sounded as uncomfortable right now as she was. With a nervous glance in the mirror she opened her mouth to reply. "Yes," her voice caught on the word and she cleared her throat, straightening her shoulders. "Yes. I'm decent." Her voice had regained some of its strength, but she was still cautious, standing as far away from the door as she could without stepping back into the shower. There was no telling which version of Flynn would walk through that door.

The door creaked as Flynn pushed it open and stepped inside. His eyes immediately zoned in on Lucy, flitting briefly down her towel-clad form, then back up to the long brown hair forming wet ringlets around her face, before finally meeting her wary brown eyes. He tilted his head fractionally and there was a change in his expression, a glint in his eyes that Lucy couldn't quite interpret. She shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze, her body tensing as she glanced away from Flynn at the open door, through which two of his gun-toting cronies were now clearly visible.

Flynn took a step in Lucy's direction and she twitched, eyes shooting back to him. He was caught off guard by her vulnerable expression and his eyes followed hers back to the door, which he seemed to only just realize he'd left open. He gave Lucy an apologetic nod and moved toward the door, holding her gaze as he pushed it so it was cracked just a few inches, far enough closed that Lucy was no longer visible from the outside, but not so far closed that she felt trapped with him. Lucy relaxed slightly and let some of the tension leave her body, thankful that Flynn was, at this moment, behaving more like a decent human being than the enraged lunatic he had been just an hour ago. For the first time since he had entered the room, she noticed that Flynn was holding what appeared to be a long maroon dress and a rather full shopping bag. Flynn cleared his throat, gesturing with the items in his hands, and when he spoke his voice was the softest Lucy had ever heard it.

"I brought you some things. Clothes, a hairbrush, some makeup." He tilted his head down to meet her eyes. "We're going to the 1890's. I trust you can dress yourself accordingly?" There was a tease in his tone as he spoke the half-question, eyebrows raised. Lucy nodded, but made no move to take the items from him. She stared at him for a moment, lips pursed in thought. When she finally spoke there was a gentle plea in her voice.

"Flynn, where are we going? What are you planning to do?" She gazed imploringly at him. Flynn looked as if he might answer for a moment, but then he shook his head and set the clothing on the counter.

"You'll know soon enough. For now just get dressed, Lucy." His tone was soft and final and he moved back toward the door, but Lucy reached out a hand to stop him, gently touching his wrist, appealing to the more human side of him.

"Please," her eyes locked on his and the fear and uncertainty that she'd been masking was now plainly written across her face, "just let me go." Flynn's face hardened fractionally and though his voice lost its softness, his dark eyes remained gentle, fixated on hers as he spoke.

"You know I can't do that, Lucy. You've gotten in my way too many times as it is. I need your help to defeat Rittenhouse, whether you're ready to give it or not. I need you by my side." As he spoke, his gaze grew heavier until it felt as if his eyes were burning into Lucy's soul. It was the same feeling she got every time he mentioned of her journal, every time he looked at her like he knew her inside and out, every time he spoke to her like an intimate friend. Recognizing defeat, Lucy's hand released his and she glanced away despondently. Flynn paused and stepped forward, reaching out as if to reassure her, but she flinched back out of his reach. Flynn's hand dropped to his side. For a moment he almost looked hurt, but then his face closed off. A muscle in Flynn's jaw clenched as he met Lucy's nervous gaze with raised eyebrows. "We leave in 30 minutes. Be ready." With that he turned and swept out the door, closing it firmly behind him once more. Lucy spent a moment staring at the closed door uneasily, not sure what to make of his unpredictable behavior.

Shaking off her perplexity, Lucy stepped toward the counter, peeking cautiously into the bag of items Flynn had brought her. Her eyebrows shot up. Not only had he managed to find a suitable 1890's dress in what appeared to be her size, but he'd also found matching earrings, shoes, and a purse. She smiled wryly to herself. The man may be a murderous lunatic, but he sure knew how to accessorize. As she dug further into the bag, she found an assortment of hair care products and a small stash of makeup in shades that were surprisingly well suited for her pale skin and dark features. She briefly wondered if Flynn's wife had shared her coloring, which would explain his makeup selecting ability, but that line of thought was too strange for her to dwell on.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, Lucy quickly dressed herself and styled her hair and makeup in what she deemed to be an appropriate late 19th century fashion. She looked in the mirror, giving herself one last once-over. Her lips twitched as she examined her outfit. The dress fit like a glove, of course. She wasn't sure she even wanted to know how Flynn had gotten these clothes so quickly.

Satisfied with her appearance, Lucy piled the makeup and hair products into her purse and turned toward the bathroom door. The smile immediately fell from her face. Dress-up time was over. Now she had to go join a violent and temperamental Flynn on whatever insane mission he had planned which would probably spell nothing good for history. She steeled her resolve and reminded herself that she would not let it get that far. As soon as she knew where they were going and what Flynn had planned, she would find a way escape. She had outsmarted him in 1972 when he'd held Wyatt hostage and she could do it again wherever they ended up this time. With that thought in mind, Lucy quickly pulled the door open before she lost her nerve.

She stepped out of the bathroom as her guard straightened up from where he had been waiting by the door. He made to grab Lucy's arm as she walked over to him, but Lucy swiftly pulled away. "I can walk." She snapped with a cold confidence that had reawakened within her. She strode past the guard, leading the way back down to the chapel. The guard didn't react to her tone, just followed closely behind her retreating form.

Lucy stepped back into the chapel, her guard just a step behind her. Flynn was across the room near the Mothership, surrounded by a handful of his men. He had changed into a handsome three-piece suit, fitting for the era to which they were headed. Lucy could not help but notice with raised eyebrows that the color of his tie complemented her dress. For the first time that night the thought struck her that her abduction may not have been as impulsive as it seemed. Flynn appeared to have been planning this trip well before the whole David Rittenhouse fiasco.

Flynn seemed to sense Lucy's presence and swung around to face her. He looked her up and down slowly, taking in her 19th century getup. When his eyes met hers he nodded slightly in approval, gesturing her over with a tip of his head. Lucy rolled her eyes, but continued in Flynn's direction as he turned back to his men, quickly wrapping up their conversation. Lucy made it over to Flynn just as his men dispersed, two of them boarding the Mothership and the rest heading off on some unknown task. Perhaps they were preparing to kidnap someone else. Flynn approached Lucy, gazing down at her, his face intensely unreadable. She met his gaze with an impatient look of her own.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" Lucy's voice was flat when she asked him, not really expecting an answer. Flynn chuckled, a half smile breaking across his face.

"Ah, but that would spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?" His tone was playful and he leaned in close to her as he finished. "Come on, Professor. Let's go make history." Lucy glared at him in disbelief and Flynn laughed again. He reached for her arm and Lucy narrowed her eyes suspiciously but allowed him to gently guide her toward the Mothership. Once they made it aboard, Lucy quickly pulled away from Flynn and reclaimed the seat she had occupied earlier that night. This time she buckled her own seatbelt, glaring at Flynn the whole time, daring him to interfere. Flynn's mouth twisted into a half smirk and he seated himself next to her, his dark, unreadable eyes never leaving Lucy.

Once her belt was secured, Lucy took the chance to inspect her surroundings. Apart from her and Flynn, there were just three others in the Mothership. Two of Flynn's gun-toting lackeys were seated across from them and Anthony was in the pilot seat preparing for takeoff. As Lucy's eyes flickered to Anthony she could not help but notice the way he steadily avoided her gaze.

The Mothership began shaking horribly in preparation for takeoff, and Lucy glued her eyes closed at the familiar sensation, attempting to calm her racing heart. Suddenly, she felt a familiar hand on her wrist, soft, but firm and steadying. When she forced her eyes open Flynn was watching her seriously with a knowing look in his eyes. He gave her wrist a gentle squeeze as the Mothership took a particularly nasty jolt and Lucy was surprised to actually find herself comforted by the gesture. The Mothership jerked again and Lucy's eyes shot closed. As she steadied her breathing, she focused on the feel of Flynn's hand on her wrist, holding her in place. As soon as the Mothership landed, Flynn's hand left hers. Lucy opened her eyes to look at him, but it appeared his focus was back on the mission before him, whatever that may be, and his face was once more a cold, unreadable mask.

Everyone took a moment to gather themselves before exiting the ship. Upon disembarking, Lucy keenly looked around to try and discern where they were, but they had landed on the outskirts of a rather unremarkable forest. She could vaguely see a city skyline in the distance, but it was too indistinct for her to identify. She supposed it did not really matter. Cities had evolved so much since 1890 that even if she could see the skyline clearly, she most likely would not recognize it.

As Lucy inspected her surroundings, Flynn barked orders at his men. Apparently Anthony and one of the men were to stay behind and guard the Mothership, while Flynn, Lucy, and the man called Karl would continue on. Orders given, Flynn marched over to Lucy and grabbed her arm in an unyielding grip, his eyes warning her not to try anything. Lucy raised an eyebrow back and tilted her head in challenge, and Flynn's lips pursed and his grip tightened in response. Karl stepped up on Lucy's other side, hovering just over her shoulder and smirking down at her. Lucy rolled her eyes and gave him a once-over, swiftly dismissing him. She turned her full attention back to Flynn, and the corner of his mouth turned up. "Time to move, Professor." He nodded to Karl and the odd trio began their trek toward the city in silence.

They had been walking for almost fifteen minutes when they reached the outskirts of the city and began passing storefronts. Lucy's head turned left and right, reading names and searching for any hint of a location. Finally, a sign caught her eye. _Chicago's Finest Popcorn._ So they were in Chicago in the 1890s. That could only mean one thing. She caught Flynn watching her with a small smile as she put two and two together. Sure enough, they rounded a corner and caught sight of a beautifully lit up Ferris wheel.

* * *

 _"The Chicago World's Fair." Flynn grinned down at Lucy as he spoke, gesturing ahead. "That's the very first Ferris wheel, right?" Lucy nodded soberly, her mind racing though different scenarios, trying to pinpoint why Flynn would bring her here. Flynn saw her mind working and adopted a in a faux reassuring tone. "We're not here to burn it down if that's what you're worried about." Lucy refused to meet his eyes._

 _"I'm sure you intend to do something equally horrible."_


	3. Part 3

**Part 3-** Set in the evening after Lucy and Flynn arrived in 1893. Parts in _italic_ are borrowed from the show.

* * *

 _"Well then maybe we're not meant to be a team after all and you know what? If that's true, that makes you expendable. So what's it going to be, Lucy? Are you going to help me or not?"_

* * *

Lucy's eyes searched Flynn's, trying to determine if the threat was genuine, but his face was cold and unreadable as he stared her down. After a moment he seemed satisfied that she was taking it seriously and spoke again, an almost cocky lilt in his voice. "You have plenty of time to think it over. The meeting isn't until tomorrow. In the mean time we should get some rest." Lucy's worried eyes stayed glued to Flynn as he tugged her arm, leading her off once again. Karl followed three steps behind as Flynn and Lucy moved down the streets of Chicago arm in arm, a happy couple out for an evening stroll at the fair, as far as any observers might be concerned.

Just a few minutes later they reached a respectable-looking hotel and Flynn tugged her inside, removing his hat as they stepped through the door. The clerk at the counter gave them a once-over before directing his attention toward Flynn. "Good evening, sir." He spoke with a hospitable smile. "How can I help you tonight?" Flynn gave his most charming smile back as he guided Lucy forward beside him. He nodded back at the clerk.

"Good evening. We're hoping to rent a couple rooms for the night. One for my wife and I," he indicated Lucy, "and one for our companion." He gestured toward Karl, still lurking behind them. Lucy twitched in protest at the word wife, but Flynn had been expecting it and gave her arm a tight warning squeeze. He smiled down at her adoringly, but Lucy could see the threat in his eyes. She forced a smile on her face and turned and nodded to the clerk. Flynn took that as encouragement and slid is arm around her waist, stepping closer, much to Lucy's chagrin.

"Of course!" The clerk had completely missed the exchange and smiled enthusiastically at the pair. "You're in luck, these are our last two rooms. It's been quite busy with the fair in town." He leaned forward and gave them a surreptitious wink, evoking a smaller, genuine smile from Lucy. "Now," he straightened back up, "we've got one room with two beds and one with just one. Any preference on who goes in which?" Lucy opened her mouth immediately, a reply on the tip of her tongue but Flynn beat her to the punch.

"We'll take the one with two beds." Flynn mimicked the clerk's conspiratorial whisper with a nod toward Lucy. "She kicks in her sleep." He leaned back and smiled affectionately down at Lucy. "Isn't that right, honey?" She met his look with the fakest smile she could muster.

"It sure is, _darling_." Lucy's voice was flat, an unmistakable threat in her eyes. Flynn's smile turned into a genuine grin, his eyes sparking with amusement. The moment was broken when the hotel clerk chuckled.

"Ah, so nice to see a couple so in love." The smile fell from Lucy's face as she stared at the clerk in disbelief. Even Flynn seemed caught off guard by the comment. The clerk seemed to realize his error after a beat and quickly continued. "Yes. Well," he cleared his throat, "here are your keys." He handed them to Flynn. "One for yourself and the missus, one for your companion." He nodded to Karl, who stared back coldly. The clerk's attention shifted back to Flynn, now clearly uncomfortable. "Is there anything else I can get you?" Flynn forced a smile back.

"That will be all, thank you." Lucy gave the clerk an apologetic nod as Flynn led her toward the stairs, Karl shadowing behind them as always.

They reached their rooms and parted ways with Karl. His room was right across from theirs, but he took up post outside their door. Lucy wondered if he would get any sleep that night or if they had just rented the second room for show. Flynn opened their door and waved Lucy in, quickly closing it behind them. The room was much smaller than any modern hotel room and though there were two beds they were doubles at best and crammed close together. Across from the beds was a small window under which stood a miniature table and a single rickety chair. On the far side of the room was a door that presumably led to the bathroom. It was nothing glamorous, but for a temporary prison Lucy supposed she could do much worse. Flynn immediately swept across the room, examining every inch of it for who knows what. Lucy lurked uncomfortably in the corner, silently watching him. He finally appeared satisfied and looked back up at Lucy. They stared at each other mutely across the room, the awkwardness of the situation setting in. Finally Flynn snapped out of it, readopting his demanding tone.

"You'll sleep there." He gestured to the bed farthest from the door. Lucy rolled her eyes, unsurprised and moved toward the bed, setting her purse on it. Flynn continued, his voice sharpening with warning. "Don't even think about trying to escape. I'll be right there," he pointed to the bed nearest the door, "and even if you managed to get past me, Karl will be just on the other side of that door. Supposing you made it past him as well," Flynn's tone rose as he nodded to Lucy, acknowledging her resourcefulness, "I'll remind you that it is the middle of the night in a busy city in the year 1893. Not the best time for a woman to wander the streets alone." Flynn held Lucy's gaze with dead seriousness, and she pursed her lips and looked away, acknowledging the truth in his words. Freedom would not be in her reach until morning.

Apparently, Flynn was looking for a verbal response. "Lucy," his words were slow and pointed, a hint of concern in his voice, "can I trust you to stay here and sleep, or do I need to tie you to the bed?" Lucy's eyes widened in alarm and she stared at him incredulously, her dark eyes clouding with anger. Flynn merely raised his eyebrows back at her, waiting for an answer.

"Yes." Lucy practically spat the word out. "I'll stay. And no, you don't need to _tie me up_." If looks could kill, Flynn would be six feet under, but he nodded seriously accepting her answer. The corner of his mouth turned up in satisfaction. Lucy suddenly felt all of her anger from the day building up inside of her and fought the urge to smack the smug smile off his face. She took a calming breath and reminded herself that slapping Flynn would probably not be her best move at this point. If he thought it was necessary he could, and probably would, tie her up. That was not how Lucy wanted to spend her evening with Flynn.

Ignoring Lucy's heated glare burning a hole in him, Flynn moved toward his bed reached into the inner pocked of his coat, removing a small black book that Lucy immediately recognized as her supposed journal. He slipped his coat off, tossed it aside, and sat back with his legs stretched across the bed. Still ignoring Lucy, he flipped open the journal and began reading. Lucy perched herself on the edge of her own bed and watched him for a moment, still fuming over his latest threat. At this point she almost wanted to pick a fight. She opened her mouth to interrupt his reading.

"Where did you even get that journal? What makes you so sure of it?" Although her tone was belligerent, Lucy's eyes were serious as they flitted between the journal and Flynn's own eyes. He looked up and met her gaze, slowly closing the book. He pursed his lips in thought before responding.

"Where I got the journal is not for you to know yet." His words were spoken slowly and thoughtfully as he finally replied. "And as for why I'm so sure of it…" He paused, as if waging an internal conflict before continuing. "I know things about you from this journal, about your life, about who you are. I know some things that you don't even know yet. That's how I'm sure of it. I know you, Lucy, maybe better than you know yourself." Flynn's eyes were earnest as he finished and Lucy crossed her arms in front of herself defensively, rightfully perturbed as he spoke of her with an intimacy she did not share.

"Well," she started, her mouth twitching into a frown, "don't believe everything you read. For all you know I packed that journal with lies and half-truths to make you do exactly what I wanted." Her gaze was defiant, though she did not actually believe her words. Neither did Flynn. He glanced down at the journal, and then back at her, his mouth turning in an affectionate half smile.

"I doubt that." He tilted his head with a teasing smirk. "Besides, I thought this wasn't your journal? Isn't that what you told Wyatt and Rufus in 1972. That it was a fake?" His tone was challenging now and he raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for a response. Lucy quickly backtracked.

"If," she amended. " _If_ I were to write that journal, which I _won't_ ," she paused for emphasis and Flynn's smirk grew, his eyes alight with amusement. His easy dismissal of her words put Lucy even more on edge and her voice raised in pitch as she continued. "It wouldn't be to help you. If you think I'll ever be okay with what you do, hurting innocent people and tearing apart history, then you're even less sane than I thought." When she finished there was a desperate look in her eyes. Flynn turned and slid to the edge of his bed so he was seated facing her directly, their knees nearly touching in the space between their beds, and looked her straight in the eye. Lucy was struck by the openness he displayed as he spoke.

"Lucy, _Rittenhouse_ is destroying history, not me. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll see why they need to be stopped. I've tried to be patient with you, but you refuse to see the truth. You refuse to see what needs to be done." Flynn's voice went from calm and soothing to desperate with a hint of frustration, begging Lucy to see things his way. Lucy herself knew how awful Rittenhouse was. She knew that they were responsible for endless suffering and needed to be stopped. She just could not imagine stooping to Flynn's level to stop them. If possible, Flynn moved even closer to her as he continued. "We can save the world, Lucy. My family. _Your sister_." Lucy twitched. Her resolve faltered at the mention of Amy. That was what she really wanted. That was _all_ she wanted, to just have her sister back and be with her. If she could have that, everything else came second, even history.

Flynn recognized that he had struck a chord with her and went in for the kill. "We can save them all. The only thing in our way is Rittenhouse." Lucy's eyes dodged and avoided Flynn's powerful stare, afraid her expressive face might reveal more of her thoughts than he had already seen. He pushed on, his voice softer, almost gentle. "I know you, Lucy. I know you want to stop them just as badly as I do." He reached for Lucy's hand, startling her and completely closing the gap between them. Lucy looked up at him, vulnerable uncertainty etched into every feature. She held his gaze for a moment, thoughts of Amy flitting through her head, before she cleared her mind and brought herself back to reality. She shook her head and pulled back. Flynn could see it in her eyes the moment he lost her. His face twisted bitterly and he released her hand. Lucy was almost apologetic when she spoke.

"I want to stop Rittenhouse, I do." She held his gaze, pleading softly. "But not like this. There's a better way. There has to be. We don't have to do it like this." Flynn scoffed, leaning back and straightening up where he sat. His dark eyes stared down at her flatly.

"You're only kidding yourself if you think you have a choice. As long as Rittenhouse is around you'll never be safe. You're just a pawn in their game." Flynn stood up, face completely closed off. "Get some sleep, Lucy. We have a busy day ahead of us." His face was once again a mask of coldness as he gave her one last hard look before he grabbed his belongings and headed into the bathroom.

Lucy stared after him for a minute, his words still running in a loop through her head. When she heard the sound of running water she shook herself out of it and looked around the room. She treaded softly to the entrance and gently pressed her ear against the door. After a minute she heard the telltale shuffling of Karl standing guard outside. The door would not be an option. But there had to be something in here she could use to escape. She mirrored Flynn's earlier actions and swept throughout the room, examining every corner for something that might help her get away. Flynn was not stupid enough to leave anything out for her to use, his guns and the journal had all gone with him into the bathroom. The window was large enough for her to climb through, but the drop was far and Flynn had not been lying when he warned her of the dangers of being a woman alone at night. He was obviously not concerned that she would try to escape tonight, and rightly so. The fact was she had no idea if Wyatt and Rufus had even made it to 1893 yet, and she had no intention of escaping Flynn just to fall in the hands of some 19th century street predator. Her best bet at finding Wyatt and Rufus would be during the daytime when she could track them down at the fair. They would assume Flynn was after someone historically significant- Teddy Roosevelt was her best bet. He was the most famous person attending the fair at the time and his death would have a huge impact on American history. They would think Flynn was after him. So if she wanted to find Wyatt and Rufus she had to find Roosevelt first. She would not be able to do that at night.

Lucy stepped back and gave the door one last long look, before acknowledging to herself that she would not be leaving tonight. She looked toward her bed and contemplated her next move. As exhausted as she was after everything that had happened in the past forty-eight hours, she could hardly imagine sleeping peacefully in a bed less than ten feet from Flynn. Then again, she did not think she was up for another mind tripping conversation tonight, so it was probably in her best interest to at least try to be sleeping when he got out of the bathroom. She shot a nervous glance in the direction of the bathroom, but she could still hear the water running. Lucy quickly unpinned her hair and shucked off her dress. Wearing only her slip, she quickly slid into her bed and pulled the covers tight around herself. She stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Flynn had said the meeting between Edison, Ford, and Morgan would take place at 4pm the next day. That meant that she would have the whole day to try and get away from Flynn. It would help if she knew where the meeting was being held or what specifically Flynn wanted her to do, but Flynn was being purposefully vague at this point. If she had to guess, he would wait as long as possible to let her in on the plan in order to prevent her from running interference. Lucy wondered what they would be doing all day. Would Flynn keep her shut up in the hotel until he needed her, or would they take the chance to explore the fair? She hoped it was the latter. The fair was going to be crowded and if she had any chance of losing Flynn and Karl that would be her best bet. The sound of water shutting off in the bathroom jolted Lucy from her thoughts and she quickly rolled on her side and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

Not a minute later the bathroom door opened and Lucy heard Flynn's quiet footsteps as he walked toward his bed. His footsteps paused halfway there and Lucy felt his eyes on her. She evened out her breathing as best as she could, and after a minute Flynn moved on. She heard the rustling of sheets as he climbed into bed, then silence as he settled in. After that the only sound was that of her own deep breathing. As much as she had been anticipating a restless night, the days' exhaustion soon caught up with Lucy and she found herself falling into a deep sleep.


End file.
